


Water

by Questionable_Alliance (Zacharie_Smackarie)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: If You Squint - Freeform, Incestrous imagination, M/M, Masturbation, No actual Poseidon/Percy sex, PWP/Porn Without Plot, Percy jerks off to the thought of Poseidon, Voyeurism, shower masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7404151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zacharie_Smackarie/pseuds/Questionable_Alliance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His breath hitches; face flushes. He slowly comes back into the world, escapes his creative mind for mere seconds; shuffles around to face the shower head. The water awakens him, and he's just /done/. Impulse wins this round.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Water

**Author's Note:**

> Older drabble, but decided to post it anyways.  
> I'm so sorry, this is trash.

Water courses through his blood, it's a literal part of him. It strengthens him, /heightens his senses./

He stands in the shower, hands on the wall, facing away from the shower head. He feels every drop of water, hears it splash onto his skin, onto the wall and shower floor. It's memorizing, a constant pitter-patter sound that sends a shiver through his spine; as quick and memorable as his own heart beat. His breathing is steady, like the waves he watches every night at camp. His thoughts are rapid, like the ocean during a fierce storm. They're changing at a quick pace, but only end up in similar scenarios. 

His breath hitches; face flushes. He slowly comes back into the world, escapes his creative mind for mere seconds; shuffles around to face the shower head. The water awakens him, and he's just /done/. Impulse wins this round. 

His back presses against the wall, and he slides down onto the floor. He's aroused already,  but that's no surprise at that point.  "..Damn you, Dad.." His voice is a whisper,  drowned out by the sound of water. Best to keep it that way, he figures. 

A hand snakes it's way to his member,  and he grabs it gently. Sees no point in dragging this out anymore than necessary,  for Percy Jackson of all people feels shame at doing such a thing, because of such a person. He has to remind himself how pathetic he is for this as he begins to stroke his hardened organ; takes his nails down the underside; traces whatever visible vains; rubs the head with the palm of his hand. Then he returns to the shaft; tightening his grip a tad and beginning to pump it. Slowly, then at a decent continuous pace.

His mind wonders, imagines what a warm body pressed against his back would feel like, what the skilled hand of a fisherman (Sea God) would feel like.  He has to bite his hand in hopes of keeping a moan at bay.

He finds no point in biting his hand, why did he think it was an idea that would work anyways? He decides he might as well stimulate his nipples. Back to wondering he goes..

He imagines what a sea-salt filled beard would look like in between his thighs, wonders what it would feel like, what a warm tongue or breath is like. 

"..Poseidon.." His gasp is low, almost a stutter,  indication of a rather close orgasm. His pace becomes unsteady, breathing a little bit rapid.

It happens so very suddenly;  his body mustering all it can to reach it's climax. Semen spills over his hand in little globs, only to be washed away by the water, as if the act never even happened. His body shakes; hands fall to his sides, eyes closing momentarily. After some time,  his breathing evens out, and he masters enough strength to bring his knees up to his chest. He huffs, annoyed. He should be ashamed of himself. "It's incestuous.." He mutters. "It's not entirely normal to fantasize about a relative.. Dammit. " He's done with self pity, he's been in there much to long anyways. 

He pushes himself up off the floor, staying under the spray in hopes of washing his sinful deeds away. 

 

"The Gods pay no attention to blood, my beautiful boy." 

Damn Gods, watching when they shouldn't.

**Author's Note:**

> Doubt I'll take this any further.


End file.
